20 avril 2012
Lemon zest
On the crater of the volcano,
I saw rebellious hands,
Tearing out their fingers
Pulling out their heads;
Reshaping the skeletons
Buried under the forsaken sands.
From hand to hand,
They were passing fire.
And their mystic circle
-Overheated-
Became a burning grey tire.
The arms, the hands
The heads and the sands.
The legs and their paces,
The eyes and their faces;
All gathered,
-Got shattered-
And then got astray
Around the smoke of the ashtray.
Grub,
Grub the head!
Let the spirit move ahead.
Let the ball
Move, turn and roll
Into mud, water and dust.
Let’s pierce the wall
With a sword of rust.
Leave the ocean
On the flight!
Hearken the voice
Of light!
Hailing the west.
Lost…
In a lemon zest.
Rochdi Bouille
Casablanca July 1994.
